Tales of the Well-Spring 8 – St Helen’s Well and Elen of the Ways

Already we are in August(and rapidly approaching September) and I’ve written so few blog posts this year. It’s been one challenge after another and I am genuinely so, so tired. Tired of being tired too. That said, I have managed to get further with the work-in-progress, “On Hob Hill” and hope to have it finished very soon.

Since I went to the White Spring in April, we have explored a few more springs and holy wells, which I hope to write about in due course. However, I’m a bit behind as we visited St Helen’s Well last summer for the first time. We’ve been back a number of times since then and it’s slightly different each time.

Thanks should go to the FB group Holy Wells, Healing Wells and Sacred springs Springs of Britain https://www.facebook.com/groups/244060782427611 for the tips on finding this particular well. Situated in Thetford Forest, not far from the Neolithic flint mines of Grime’s Graves (within walking distance even, though it’s a bit far for me), this spring is a curious one. Finds suggest the site was used in prehistoric times, potentially even in Palaeolithic times. The original healing well emerged, it is thought, close to or actually in the walls of St Helen’s church. This church was built on the promontory overlooking the river Little Ouse, thought to have been during the reign of Edward the Confessor. It was mentioned in the Doomsday book (20 years after the Norman conquest this was a government imposed census of the country) but fell into disrepair some hundreds of years later, and eventually fell down completely. Humps and hummocks in the grass are all that remain; there have been archaeological digs there but not for many years. The spring itself, renowned as a supplier of healing water, vanished too. Fast forward to the 18^th century when flints for guns were in huge demand; it was quarried from the chalk close to where the church once stood and turned out many millions of flints before it too fell into disuse, leaving a massive crater. https://insearchofholywellsandhealingsprings.com/tag/st-helens-well/ The arrival of the railway also disturbed the ground. Quite when the spring-head re-emerged is hard to ascertain but it’s there now. You can park in the main car park and then walk (it’s about 20 minutes or so to stroll to the spring). The direct route down to the spring from the noticeboard is quite steep and if it’s muddy, you can easily slip. However, there is a less precipitous route a short distance further on that is unmarked.

You walk among mixed woodland, the path chalky at times and hummocked, reminding you of the quarrying that went on here. It was always quiet and peaceful each time we went. If you were expecting a nice little well house or a wishing well structure, you’ll be disappointed. The spring-head itself rises and flows away under the railways bridge down to the river; there are multiple places where it bubbles up. It forms a pool, with margins of marshy ground, surrounded by trees, with one largish hazel that drops nuts into the pool in the autumn. There’s an atmosphere of peace and a strange quiet watchfulness. A few discreet votive offerings suggest it’s an active site of pilgrimage and possibly ritual. Every so often a train rushes by but it seems a million miles away from this little oasis. If you sit quietly, it’s like the waters close round you after a stone’s been thrown into deep water. The ripples expand, and then there is stillness. I sat and painted, using the water with my paints, the first time we went.

But who was St Helen? It’s a mix of myth, legend and history and much debate about it all. St Elen, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Elen is distinct for St Helen, mother of Constantine the Great, the Roman emperor who imposed Christianity as the state religion. St Elen is a Welsh saint, whose story is told here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Welsh_mythology#The_Dream_of_Macsen_Wledig about how in the 4^th century, the dream of the emperor caused him to seek out the woman in his dreams and marry her; she later organised the building of roads across Britain, becoming known as Elen of the Hosts, and sometimes as Elen of the Ways. We have no way of knowing which Helen/Elen the church in Thetford Forest commemorated, and of the well, even less is known. But Elen of the Ways has risen in prominence in recent years and has become a figure of some debate, even furious dismissal. The book by Caroline Wise, “Finding Elen” https://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Elen-Quest-Ways/dp/1508644039/ is an excellent book for exploring this mysterious figure, described by many as an antlered goddess, guarding the wild places and hidden roads of this country. Many deny she exists or ever existed, as an historical figure of worship. Antlered goddesses do exist in the archaeological records all across Europe; some wear bovine horns, some wear the horns of sheep and goats and some of various deer species. The debate can be heated and it does get nasty. My feeling is that it’s like one of the definitions of myth: “Myth is something that has never happened and is happening all the time” (attributed to Sallustius). Elen may not have been a historic goddess going back to the mists of time but the fact is, she seems to exist now. And at a time of huge ecological crises, the arrival of a guardian deity of the wild spaces and the wild creatures, seems both timely, comforting, and encouraging. I had a dream last year, shortly before we finally sought out and visited St Helen’s Well, in which the figure of Elen of the Ways appeared, in the form of a statue. An incredibly beautiful, detailed and intricate statue that I have looked out for ever since then, but have failed to find. I found a small silver charm of a female deer, which I wear often and indeed, I wore when I had my self-baptism at the White Spring in April. That day’s guardian of the shrine spotted it and asked me if it was for Elen (which indeed it was) and it turned out she’s a friend of Caroline Wise who wrote the book.

The fact that a new goddess who has always existed (I know it’s a paradox) has emerged and has become a focus for a greater awareness and love for the natural world is one of the few things to have encouraged me both spiritually and emotionally this year.